Jack's Treasure
by Oil Pastel
Summary: Ever wondered about how Jack lost the Black Pearl? It's all down to one girl; Monice. One very very stupid, naive, funny to laugh at character. JSOC. Hee hee!
1. Bittersweet Memories

Hey people! This is my new fic, my first try at a PotC fic. Lol. The first chap is in first person. The rest of the story (apart from the last chap) is in third person about Monice. This is her speaking now btw, so. . . I'll say now that Him ISN'T God in any way shape or form (well, he is to some of us ladies anyway, can you guess who it is yet?) lol. She just related to him as a Him because she can't say his name without hurting. The second chappie will be on its way soon. Please leave a review at the end it would be appreciated. Constructive criticism welcome, no flamers please! Thanx.  
  
Disclaimer; I own none of this.  
  
Chapter One; Bittersweet Memories  
  
I sit here, clutching my only evidence that I had once loved, an open bottle of rum and a half empty glass of the vile drink that I am only drinking out of habit. The desk I am sitting at is in front of an open window facing the ocean.  
  
The ocean.  
  
Where He is.  
  
I can love it, and I can hate it. Like I can love Him and hate Him.  
  
I have drawn Him, simply because once, long ago, He had drawn me. I look once more at his beautiful charcoaled face and I think that he was too beautiful, even, to capture on a piece of weather-worn parchment. My heart skips a beat just by looking at His roughly drawn face.  
  
'Why?' I think to myself from time to time.  
  
I, myself, was so busy looking for a reason for why I had fallen for somebody below me that I didn't have any time left to love Him. I could've had anybody I wanted!  
  
I flip over to the other piece of yellowed parchment to check for the thousandth time how I looked then. I have not aged much; after all it was only eight years ago. Eight years of lonely misery. I looked pretty in a foreign way. I stand with a perfect posture looking out to the sea, oblivious to someone drawing me.  
  
When I found out that He had drawn me I had asked why He drew me with much more beauty that I had to which He replied; 'Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, luv. You're such a pretty thing,'  
  
That was the first most romantic thing I had ever heard. I was young, as you can probably tell.  
  
But when I ask myself why, I then think, why do I need a reason? Love is an uncontrollable thing. We spend so much time looking for the meaning of life that we have no time left to live it. We are here to live, not to ask. Appreciate what is given to us, for it can be taken away in the blink of an eye and leave you with a horrible feeling.  
  
Regret.  
  
And that is what my story is about. Them and me. Pirates. Freedom. Love. 


	2. And It Begins

Hey, I told you that I would update soon. So here I be, 'holdin true to me word. Lol. You know the drill, leave a review at the end. This was MAINLY written by my good friend Sherbet Mayhem (check out her fics, they are grrrrrrreat!) Lol Enjoy!  
  
Chapter Two; And It Begins  
  
"Come on Monice, wake up! Its such an important day for you!" said her nurse, opening the windows to let in a stream of sunlight.  
  
The nurse heard a groan from the lump under the bed covers.  
  
"UP! NOW!" she yelled.  
  
Immediately the figure shot up in the bed and revealed a head of messy brown-black hair sticking up at odd angles. Monice rubbed her eyes and yawned, squinting against the sudden light. She looked over to her maid who had her hands on her plump hips and had a frown on her aged face.  
  
"Oh, its only you Tess, I thought it was my father for a moment then," Monice said to her in a sleepy voice and snuggled back down in her bed to get some more rest.  
  
"GET OUT OF BED!"  
  
Monice jumped up again and landed on the royal blue carpeted floor and fell back asleep there instead.  
  
"Why, she is hard to wake up- even on her BIRTHDAY!" Tess said the last word extra loud.  
  
From where she was standing on the other side of the bed, she could see Monice's unruly head of hair shoot up again. Tess had to bite her tongue to stop herself from laughing.  
  
"I'm up! I'm up! Now," she said, dusting her hands off in a business like manner. "Where are my presents?" she asked.  
  
Tess raised her eyebrows and 'hmmm-ed'. "You wont get any if you don't get yourself ready, now hurry up!"  
  
Monice frowned.  
  
"No new dress?" she asked, disappointed. She normally would get a new dress each year and some other little presents.  
  
"No," Tess said.  
  
"Well then. Would you care to divulge what my present is this year then?" Monice asked, grinning.  
  
"Even if I did 'care to divulge', I can't. It's a surprise," she replied.  
  
"Awww! Pleeeeease?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Please?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Pleeeeease?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Please?"  
  
"NO! Now please be quiet! I have a headache and YOU have only been up for less than five minutes!"  
  
"Fine. I'll shut up."  
  
"Good, now, get yourself into that dress that I've laid out for you over there," Tess said, pointing to the dress behind her without leaving her gaze from Monice.  
  
Monice nodded, still in a sour mood. Tess sighed and left the room muttering something like 'Sixteen and still acts like a six year old!'  
  
Stormily, Monice practically threw on her dress and rammed a brush through her hair, wincing when the knots would be pulled. She almost ripped out half her hair in the process, but when she had finished with the brush, she slammed it down on the vanity pleased at the crash it made.  
  
She stepped back and reviewed her image.  
  
Hair: Surprisingly neat, (for her standards anyway) dark brown in colour.  
  
Skin: Looks like it is in an, 'I want to be a combination skin today' mood. Still, it looked okay. Better than some other teenage people Monice knew anyway. Her skin was a pale colour, like many other rich people's skin she knew.  
  
Eyes: Hazel, to Monice's annoyance. She would rather have brown or just green eyes. In the summer they were more green that brown and in the winter they were more of a brown colour.  
  
Height: She had just had her last growth spurt and now reached the full height of five foot seven, with a proud and upright posture bred into her by her nurse that she'd had since the age of one. Her mother passed away soon after giving birth to Monice, and her mother's last breath was used on naming her baby.  
  
Dress: Emerald green to match her 'Summer Eyes' as her father 'amusingly' called them. It had a tight upper body and at the hips her dress flared out dramatically because of it's many petticoats and the hoop bottom.  
  
She stomped her way down the magnificent staircase that lead to the exquisitely, with its mahogany wooden floors and pale blue walls. Her heavy footfalls echoed through the cavernous hallway and she walked through to the dining room where the table was set for twelve people. She was almost blinded by the glare off the polished silver wear.  
  
'Father should be careful about setting his special silver wear out, someone dishonest could steal her-' she cut her own thoughts off. Why was she thinking of her silver's welfare on her birthday?  
  
"Ah, Monice dear, I'm glad to see that you're up. Was that you making all that racket then?" asked her father in a rich British accent.  
  
She grimaced.  
  
"Yes father," she replied softly.  
  
"Well, a maturing woman like you should be more lady-like and not have childish tantrums," he said.  
  
"Sorry father," she said, bowing her head in shame. But it wasn't for long that she was in a sad mood. Not only was she cheered up by the fact that he had called her a maturing woman.  
  
And her present was yet to come.  
  
She practically skipped to the other side of the room where her father was, until she remembered her manners and slowed her pace to a graceful walk. She smiled expectantly when she reached her father and sat down on the silk settee at the end of the room next to him.  
  
"Here is your present," he said, handing her a small envelope. Monice's face fell considerably.  
  
She reached out and took the envelope trying to keep the disappointment off her face. With a shaky hand she opened it and took out its contents. One piece of paper.  
  
'This had better be good,' she thought as she turned it over so she could read it.  
  
Her mouth fell open I shock.  
  
"A holiday?" she gasped. That was unheard of! Only royalty went on holidays, and even that was very rare!  
  
"Daddy! I. . . I don't know what to say!" she said. Her father chuckled.  
  
"You should have seen your face! It was a picture!" he said.  
  
She leaped at him and gave him a bone-breaking hug.  
  
"Thank you! Thank you so much!"  
  
She could hear his muffled laughter and she let him go.  
  
"We set sail in a week," her father said.  
  
Monice grinned.  
  
**************************************************************************** ************  
  
A dark mysterious figure stood behind a statue, eyes closed, listening intently to a hushed conversation. Night had begun to set, and the stars were out, glistening in their phosphorescence. The subject of the conversation was a rumour of a ship, a worrying tale of a ship that left few survivors in its path of destruction as it sailed its black flags proud. The silent figure leaned forwards a little, breathing out quietly as the conversation continued.  
  
"Interesting," he whispered to himself, "Very interesting."  
  
"They say it's near here!" said one of the men; two wealthy landlords who had no excuse to be out at that time of night other than to scour the neighbourhood's 'ladies'. The dark figure flipped a dreadlock out his deep brown eyes, the colour of charcoal.  
  
"Did you hear, in other news, that the Forsythe's are going on holiday? I tell you, that's risky business, what with all of those common pirates around. I don't like it one bit."  
  
"You'll just be pained to see Miss Monice leaving!"  
  
"Well, I don't deny that she is a very beautiful lady."  
  
"That's not all you'd call her, my friend!"  
  
They both burst into perverted laughter and the figure behind the statue rolled his eyes. Sickos. Then again . . . it's not like he wouldn't . . .  
  
"Well, they leave tomorrow, on the Renis Relisque. Oh, I'm going to miss that Monice. Such lovely breas-"  
  
"Now, now, Franco, not in public!"  
  
"I'm sorry, my friend, it's just that when I think of her leaving . . . "  
  
The figure sighed. He'd had quite enough of this. He stepped out from behind the statue.  
  
"Allo, gents. Jus' wondrin' who this missy is that you're so taken by. Savvy?"  
  
The two rather podgy men stared at the man. One looked extremely annoyed.  
  
"You were eavesdropping? Who are you, you filthy little pira-"  
  
Bang. The stranger held in his outstretched arm a smoking pistol which glinted in the moonlight. He rolled his eyes.  
  
"Talked too much."  
  
The fatter of the two (well, formerly two) landlords gasped and began to scream at the top of his girly lungs. "MURDER!!!"  
  
The stranger cursed, two gold teeth flashing as he did so, and then sped off into the dark alleyway nearby as the sounds of police yelling nearby began to echo through the air.  
  
**************************************************************************** ************  
  
Monice stood in the street, her hair blowing in the gentle breeze as her family continued to pack inside the house. She had decided that she needed a breath of fresh air.  
  
"I wonder what tomorrow will bring," she thought out loud, looking up at the lavender sky, dotted with flashing stars.  
  
She was jolted out of her reverie by the sound of a loud gunshot nearby. Frightened, she glanced toward the sound of the shot, to the end of her street, and there she saw a shadowy figure racing around the corner towards her.  
  
"Who-?"  
  
The figure approached, and Monice got a full view of the man. He was quite tall, with a slim physique and a pair of steel capped boots that clanged on the pavement. He wore tight black trousers, and his upper half was draped in a black jacket with a white (ish) shirt underneath, the sleeves sticking out at the end of his long arms. His face was dark - not his skin, merely his appearance was rather dark. He wore a pointed captain's hat, and his hair was long and untamed, twisted into messy dreadlocks here and there and held back partially by a bandanna. His beard was tied in two tiny plaits, secured at the ends by golden pieces. He sported a moustache, curling upwards at the edges, and a complete pile of black eyeliner enhanced his eyes - or so it would seem.  
  
The man spotted her, and then skidded to a quick halt.  
  
"Ay, luv, can yer help me?" he asked, speaking gruffly to Monice and waving his hand rather strangely.  
  
"Why should I? You're a criminal, villain, crook, thief. Terrible guy!" replied Monice matter-of-factly, eying the man strangely.  
  
"Well, yer see, luv, I . . . I . . . I saw this puppy- dog- er, Alsatian, er, terrible- WOLF! Yer, wolf! I saw it attacking this, this, lad- girl- woman! Yes! Pregnant woman! PREGNANT! It was awful- what with the full moon 'n all. Yer, it ripped her dress- arm! STOMACH! Yes, stomach, it was terrible! Blood! Blood on the floor- everywhere! Even on me! And I was half way across the street. So, er, so I . . . I shouted, no kicked- wrestled- no! Tackled that thing! We fought and rolled across the street. So then I took me pistol and blew 'is brains out! And THEY'RE trying to arrest ME! I was just doing me civic duty lass; I saved that lad- woman! PREGNANT woman at that!" As the man had spoken his hands had flailed wildly, almost in a camp fashion but not quite.  
  
'I've blown it,' he thought wincing at the accidental 'lad' slip up.  
  
Monice stared at him with utter disbelief.  
  
"YOU . . . " she yelled and he winced- "Poor thing! They're trying to hang you for saving an innocent woman's life?! What a world of naïve fools we live in!" she said knowingly.  
  
The man smiled, his deep eyes glinting.  
  
"Yes, fools they are," he said, trying to smother his amusement. "Naïve the lot of them. Believe anything we tell 'em!"  
  
"I understand completely!" said Monice, nodding understandingly, "I'll hide you!"  
  
With that, Monice grabbed the man's hand and pulled him into her house.  
  
The man looked about, his eyes scouring the hallway.  
  
"Interesting," he said thoughtfully, "I say you're very busy at this time of night."  
  
Monice nodded, closing the front door. "Yes. My father and I set sail for London tomorrow."  
  
The man's eyes narrowed, and he offered a wonky grin. "Oh, so you're Monice?"  
  
He glanced down a little way before returning his eyes to her level. "They were right."  
  
"Who?" asked Monice innocently. The man smiled, amused.  
  
"I heard two blokes talkin' about you and your litt'l adventure when I was on me onesy outside."  
  
Monice nodded. "So, what's your name, sir?"  
  
The man looked away. "Well, Missy, tell you what. You give me your name, and I'll give you mine. Savvy?"  
  
"You already know my name."  
  
"Full, if you please."  
  
"Monice Fleur Forsythe."  
  
"Fleur Forsythe, you say? Well, I'm William Brandon Smith." He said confidently, quickly thinking up an obvious lie to cover for his real name. Monice didn't seem to notice, as she was occupied by watching a man taking a case outside.  
  
"DON'T DROP THAT!!! It's my chest of silver jewellery!"  
  
'William' raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't shout that out, lassy. Bring the wrong people abouts after yer if yer not careful."  
  
Monice seemed to be paying little attention. She was simply shouting out the entire contents of her luggage and screaming that it was fragile. 'William' sighed. He also noticed that the street was clear of policemen.  
  
"Well, luv, it's best I be on me way," he said, twiddling his moustache. "I thank yer for yer generous 'ospitality and all. Be seein' yer."  
  
Monice finally turned around as he spoke, but by the time she had turned about, he was already out of the front door. She shrugged to herself.  
  
"What a strange fellow," she said softly.  
  
Ooooooh! When d'ya think they will meet again, eh? Lol. Find out in the next chappie!  
  
Review! Please? 


	3. Set Sail

Hey peeps! Here is the next chappie for ya. I have changed how long ago it was. Its now eight years before the movie, lol. A BIG HUUUGE thanx to XxDragon Princess NikkixX (you're a great writer and reviewer! Everybody check out her amazing fics! She has signed in on the reviews, so check 'em out!) and Leila5, for you're review too! Thank you!!!!! So here is the next chappie for ya'll. If you have any trouble in catching what the hell is going on, ask in your review, or feel free to email me! Lol.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
Chapter Three; Set Sail  
  
Monice couldn't get to sleep the night before; she was too exited about her holiday. So by the time she had to leave Monice was exhausted. She was still curious as to why her father wanted a 'special word' with her when they had set for sail though.  
  
When she finally set foot on the Renis Relisque, it was safe to say that she was relieved. Monice was happy to see the fading sight of Port Royale. She leaned against the railing of the ship and breathed in the fresh air. Well, no, she didn't. She was actually below deck puking her guts out due to seasickness.  
  
Monice heard a knock on her cabin door.  
  
"Monice? Are you alright darling?" her father asked.  
  
"Yes. . . I'm. . . um . . . fine. Yes, I'm fine now! Come in!" she lied.  
  
Her door opened and her father stepped inside, wrinkling his nose at the smell of vomit that hit his senses. He looked around for the cause and saw a bucket sitting next to Monice's bed. She was lying down and looked decidedly pale.  
  
"Are you sure you feel well dear?" he asked again.  
  
"Yes, I'm fine," she dismissed his concern with a wave of her arm.  
  
"Good, because I have something of great importance to tell you," he said.  
  
Monice sat up quickly and immediately felt woozy again. She decided to lie down again.  
  
"Well, I don't know how to say this, but here goes! You're getting married!" he said, beaming in an annoying manner.  
  
Monice couldn't believe her ears.  
  
"What?" she said.  
  
"I know, that's exactly what I said when Theobald Whittington asked me for my blessing, isn't it wonderful?" he exclaimed, waving his hands in a ridiculous and irritating fashion.  
  
"Theobald?" she whispered to herself in despair.  
  
"Yes! Isn't he a wonderful chappie? Landlord you know! Very respectable fellow!"  
  
Monice raised a sceptical eyebrow, thinking 'I'll bet he is,' with just a hint of sarcasm. He spent most of his time in the Brothel fritting his money away.  
  
"I'm not going to marry him. For one, I'm too young and secondly he is a drunk! I've seen- no- heard him crawling home from a night out, which is every night if I remember correctly. I'd be surprised if he was sober whilst he asked your permission for my hand in marriage!" she exclaimed, feeling a little angry thinking along the lines of 'Never In A Million Years,'  
  
His face darkened.  
  
"You WILL marry him! And you are NOT too young. Many women your age have been made good mothers, and wives!"  
  
"Yes, all of the whores and commoners!"  
  
He looked as if he was about to kill her with his own hands.  
  
"I repeat, you WILL marry him. The wedding is in two months when we arrive back to Port Royale," he said sternly.  
  
Monice gulped and, holding back a sob, she pushed past her father and ran out of the room.  
  
When she got out of her door, there were two sets of stairs. The ones on her right lead upwards on to the decks, and the ones on her left went downwards into darkness. She took a left and ran as fast as she could without her sense of sight down the stairs, as she didn't want everybody to see her only dressed in her white nightgown. Rather improper and un-lady- like. Besides, it was practically see through.  
  
As she reached the bottom step, the smell of gunpowder hit her nose.  
  
"Urghh," she said to herself.  
  
Eventually she felt around for something to sit on. She would have to wait a while before her father's blood pressure dropped a few notches.  
  
"Awfully dark in here," she said, still talking to herself.  
  
She managed to find herself some matches (what are the odds?) and struck one so she could see.  
  
"Not very bright. I should find a candle before this goes out."  
  
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a candlewick and she lit it quickly without thinking.  
  
"Oh, goodness, that candle is going down awfully fast, and its not even that bright!" she said.  
  
Then it hit her.  
  
"OH HEAVENS! IT'S A CANNON!" she shrieked.  
  
What was she to do now?  
  
Her eyes widened.  
  
BANG!!!  
  
She fainted.  
  
Ha ha ha ha ha! Evil cliffie!!!! What do ya think happens next? Well, review! Your reviews= my inspiration= your updates! 


	4. Negotiating

Hey peeps! I have updated! Yey! I have already written the next chappie for ya, so all I need are . . . reviews! I would just like to say to everybody who can read, to use that special talent to check out Pirates of the Caribbean: the Jewel of Deception its amazing!  
  
Thanx to:  
  
Xx Dragon Princess Nikki xX (and you are a good writer! Hope you're liking school! Ha ha ha ha! I don't go back for another week or so!)  
  
NOT Sherbet Mayhem (she is a Dutch hater)  
  
Bey_girl_nicky: thank you, but I don't think not reviewing is very threatening. You know that if you didn't review I would be flaming yours and telling you to review me. Lol  
  
Dark Maiden Reiya, thanx for reviewing! Lol!  
  
Here is the next chapter!  
  
Enjoy!  
  
Chapter four; Negotiating  
  
As Monice flicked open her hazel eyes, she took a moment to try and remember where she was. Her eyes focused and she jumped at the black and peach figure before her.  
  
"ARGH! Oh, I thought you were a cabbage!" she cried, wincing at the pain in her head from speaking too loudly.  
  
"Did yer hit yer head luv?"  
  
Her eyes focused properly and she realised that she wasn't looking at a cabbage at all, or a panda.  
  
"William! What on earth are you doing here?" she asked.  
  
"William? Oh, William! Monice!" he said, trying to keep up with his own lies. Then the memory of who Monice actually was struck him and he glanced down at her chest again, a lop-sided grin on his face, his eyes sparkling mischievously at her white night gown which had gone see-through in the water.  
  
"What?" she asked. "Is there a bug on me?" she said, thrusting her bosom in his face. "Get it off! Get it off!" she squealed, squirming with her eyes closed in case she saw the 'bug'.  
  
'William's' smile grew and he raised his eyebrows. He reached forward to get the non-existent bug of her chest anyway, his hands lingering a little too long for Monice's liking. She glanced down at her chest to see what he was doing.  
  
"Get off me this instant!" she yelled and slapped him. Monice heard laughter. She scrambled to her feet and the jeering continued.  
  
"Getting friendly with the captain, eh?"  
  
"Look what the Sparrow dragged in!"  
  
She looked around and saw a whole crew of motley men, with parrots, beards and gold teeth. There were hooks for hands- well, no, there weren't any of them, but you get the picture. Monice tried to cover herself, but this set the crew off even more. Monice felt tears of shame sting her eyes.  
  
"Here, take this," said someone from behind her. She felt something being draped around her shoulders. Monice looked and saw it was a coat, and she hastily put it on, much to the despair of the men.  
  
"Bootstrap! Why did yer do that, eh? I'll have yer scrub the deck 'fer days! She was a fine piece of-"  
  
"Enough Barbosa! Being first mate doesn't make yer captain," snapped 'William' sternly. "Bootstrap was only 'bein a gent!"  
  
Barbosa grumbled and walked away. Monice turned around to face Bootstrap.  
  
"Thank you," she said weakly, smiling slightly. Monice glanced at his face, with its golden brown skin and chocolate eyes. His hair was almost black, but slightly tinted by the sun, and curled towards the end.  
  
She turned back to 'William'.  
  
"How did I get here? Where I am?" she asked.  
  
"You're aboard my ship, and yer here 'coz you blew a hole through it," he replied, with a smile.  
  
Suddenly it all flooded back. Her argument with her father, storming off in a mood and lighting the 'candle'. She gulped and put her head in her hands.  
  
"Oh, my goodness, what have I gotten myself into? I assume that my family are here too?" she inquired.  
  
'William' pulled on his collar, almost nervously.  
  
"Well, sort of. . . no. . . " he trailed off and looked at Monice. 'Ohh, if looks could kill,' he thought.  
  
"What do you mean 'well sort of no'?" she demanded.  
  
"Well, yer see luv, I had to kill 'em-"  
  
"YOU KILLED THEM!?" she shouted. He winced.  
  
"Well, I 'ad to. . . yer see. . . that's the first rule of piracy," he lied. "If someone fires on yer, yer have to shoot back. I 'ad the Code to consider,"  
  
"Piracy? You're a pirate?" she asked. The crew laughed again.  
  
"Yer, who did ya think 'e was? Captain Norrington?" said one pirate. The others laughed even harder.  
  
"Captain Jack Sparrow at your service," he said, taking his hat of and swooping into a low bow. She cringed.  
  
"Jack Sparrow?" she said, unimpressed. "A man who killed all of my family is called Jack Sparrow?" she laughed.  
  
Jack looked hurt.  
  
"You know, yer shouldn't really be 'sayin that to a man who can 'av yer guts fer garters," Jack said, his expression hardening. She gulped.  
  
His face turned into a sly smile.  
  
"But on the other hand. . ." he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, "you could warm me bed up at night? Savvy? It does get awfully lonely on the Pearl, dunnit lads?"  
  
"Aye!"  
  
She stared at him wide-eyed.  
  
"Well. . . " she pondered aloud. "I supposed it must get cold," she said, completely missing what Jack was suggesting. "Especially with those draughts and no bed-pans to warm you up."  
  
Jack looked more confused than his crew had ever seen him. This girl was really beyond him. How could somebody be so naïve?  
  
"I suppose you have your own quarters separate to the crew?" she asked.  
  
"Uh. . . yes," Jack answered.  
  
"Well, sharing with you is a lot better than sharing with the rest of them," she said, jerking her head towards the crew violently, "I wouldn't want to be kept with that lt. I'll share a bed with you," she declared in the end.  
  
Silence cloaked the ship.  
  
"What?" asked Jack in the end, a smirk creeping on to his features.  
  
Monice rolled her eyes impatiently.  
  
"I'm sure you heard the first time," she said.  
  
Jack shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"Just makin sure. Wouldn't want another slap across me face now, would I?" he said, his gold teeth glittering.  
  
She sighed impatiently.  
  
"Where are your quarters then?" she said.  
  
"Blimey, you're keen aren't you?" replied Jack.  
  
"I only want to get away from them," she said simply.  
  
"Right this way then," he said, standing aside to let her past.  
  
She looked at him- as if unsure about what to do, but the she gave a small smile and walked past him.  
  
When her back was turned, Jack turned to his crew and winked.  
  
"Must be my charms," he said to his crew and laughed along with them.  
  
"What are yer laughing at? Get back ter work! And if you interrupt me in me cabin, then I'll shoot yer. You know how I like to negotiate!" Jack ordered.  
  
He walked away to show Monice where to go, still smiling. 


	5. A Misunderstanding

Hey! Another update! Wow, this is fast for me. Lol thank you to everyone who reviewed. I'm glad you're finding this funny!  
  
Enjoy!  
  
Chapter five; A Misunderstanding  
  
When he got to Monice, he put on a serious face straight away. She was standing outside his cabin door. He frowned. How did she know how to get there? As if she read his mind she pointed to the metal sign on his door.  
  
"It says 'Captain's Quarters'," she said simply.  
  
He raised his eyebrows in surprise.  
  
"Does it? I wouldn't know. I can't read. I stole- acquired it off this blacksmith who told me what it said. I was unsure myself, so I shot 'im afterwards, just in case," he said.  
  
She gulped.  
  
"Well, go inside," he said, signalling to the door.  
  
With a shaky hand, she opened the door slowly, as if unsure of what was about to pop out at her.  
  
It certainly was messy. Men aren't very tidy though, are they? She thought that it was natural for a man to be this messy. Clothes were strewn lazily across the floor. She carefully stepped around them and sat herself down on the bed.  
  
That was when she broke into hysterics. Everything that was held inside of her when she was standing nearly naked in front of those horrific pirates came flooding out. She hadn't wanted to look any weaker to them. She missed her family already. Everything she had was now lost, due to the man who was now standing in front of her. She glared up angrily at him when he asked what was wrong.  
  
"What's wrong?" she asked in a dangerous whisper. He took a step back out of instinct. She stood up. "What's WRONG?" she shouted. Jack winced. "YOU have just killed MY FAMILY!" she screamed. "I HAVE NOTHING LEFT! I'M STUCK ON A SHIP WITH A FEW MANGY PIRATES AND A SEE THROUGH NIGHTY!"  
  
She saw him glance down again and rolled her eyes in utter frustration.  
  
"MR. SPARROW!"  
  
"CAPTAIN!" Jack corrected, annoyed. "Why can't anybody get it right? Is it really that hard?"  
  
"YES IT HARD!" she yelled back.  
  
Up on deck, the pirates 'listening' into the conversation widened their eyes, laughing. Well, I say listening, but anybody that wasn't deaf and was within a fifty-mile radius could've heard them at it.  
  
"Old Jack hasn't lost 'is touch- eh?" said one of them with an eye missing out of it's socket. He guffawed in a retarded fashion.  
  
Back inside Monice sat back down on the bed.  
  
"This just isn't good enough Captain Sparrow! I always thought this type of thing would be an adventure, but I'm not even excited! This is not satisfactory!"  
  
The pirates outside looked at each other, taken aback.  
  
"If Jack isn't good enough, then we haven't got a hope in hell!" said a black man with dreadlocks. They were obviously mistaken as to what was happening below deck. They hushed up to listen to more.  
  
"I'm trying me best, luv, what more can I do?"  
  
"Well, at least let me feel comfortable. I'm standing here sopping wet in a see-through nighty! Do you think I'm enjoying myself?"  
  
"'Ere, 'ave a lie down. I'll see what I can do fer yer," said Jack.  
  
Monice groaned as she lay back on the bed, fed up with her situation. She let out a long sigh.  
  
The pirates looked at each other, impressed. Just then the door to the deck opened, and Jack climbed out.  
  
"Shiver me timbers, Jack, that was fast!" said a smallish grizzly looking man with a balding head and rotting teeth.  
  
"Yes, well, I'm just getting the lass 'ere a change of clothes. After all she's been through, she must be feeling quite dirty," he said, unaware of the effect these words would have on his crew.  
  
They instantly began whistling and shouting.  
  
"Oh, don't be stupid," interrupted Bootstrap, who was mopping the deck. "What do you think he was doing down there? Pleasuring her?" he said and chuckled to himself at his shipmates' stupidity.  
  
The crew looked expectantly at Jack.  
  
"You were, weren't yer?" they asked.  
  
He stared at them for a minute before replying with a grin.  
  
". . . er. . . 'course I was, who d'ya think I am?" he lowered his voice to a whisper. "She's fantastic," and he waltzed off to find her a dress.  
  
O o o o o o h! What do you think's gonna happen next? Well, all you have to do is. . . . LEAVE A REVIEW! ! ! 


	6. Dinner Time!

Hey ppl, here is the next chappie for ya. I would just like to say that my chaps aren't usually this short, and the adventure starts in the next chapter!  
  
Thanx to  
  
Leila5: yeah, Jack is a little darker in this, but don't forget, this was before he lost the Pearl! Thanx, I'm glad that you are enjoying this!  
  
DemonicLittleGirl: thank you so much! EVERYBODY WHO IS REDAING THIS- CHECK OUT HER FICS! SHE IS SIGNED IN!!  
  
Mi: Thanx!  
  
Dragon Princess Nikki: aww, *hugs*! Thank you! I always look forward to your reviews! You are so kind to me! Lol. EVERYBODY CHECK OUT HER FICS TOO! ^.^  
  
Bey-Girl-Nicki: Thank! Alas, your reviews are getting shorter and shorter. Do I need to start reviewing your again? Lol. DON'T FORGET TO GIVE ME AN ACCSESORY! Jenny keeps on beating me up with hers. But I'm safe for the mo, she is in Banger, some crappy little college for a few days! Lol. EMAIL ME!!  
  
Gypsy Fire: I know, she should be a blonde! Lol! ^.^  
  
I don't own any of this!  
  
Enjoy!  
  
Chapter six; Dinner Time  
  
"Here's your coat back," Monice said with a weak smile as she handed over the wet coat over to Bootstrap Bill.  
  
He looked from her to the dripping coat.  
  
"How did it get this wet?" he asked. Monice shrugged her small shoulders.  
  
"To be completely honest, I haven't got a clue myself!" she said quite brightly. She gave a ditzy smile as walked off back toward Jack's cabin, humming to herself. Monice seemed oblivious to the stares that she was receiving from the other crewmembers.  
  
She'd changed into a tight upper body fitting red dress that she at first thought Jack must have stolen from a whore or something. But, she shrugged and made him turn to face the wall whilst she changed. The funny thing was, though, that he had already turned around when she told him that she was finished. Wow, he must have been psychic or something, otherwise he wouldn't have known when exactly she was ready without telling him. It was a good job that she knew he wouldn't look at her whilst getting changed then, wasn't it?  
  
When Monice retreated back in to the cabin, she let out a sigh of relief and tried to unfasten the top four little buttons of her dress. It was awfully tight fitting. In fact, if she remembered correctly, she had quite a struggle getting it on. Actually, she fell over in the proceeds of getting the constricting dress on.  
  
Letting out a breath of relief, she fell back down on the bed and lay down. Jack was outside (well, at least she thought so, she had no idea where the pirate was), steering the ship.  
  
"Aaah," she said contently and closed her eyes to get some much needed rest.  
  
She peeked open her left eye to check how high or low the sun was outside the window. It was setting now. She gave another small shrug and fell into a deep slumber.  
  
About three hours later, Jack went in to this room and looked at the person in his bed. In the moonlight he could see her face. He didn't fail to notice a lot of her cleavage hanging out the top of the dress. He raised his eyebrows and gave a rouge-ish smile, walking over to the bed.  
  
"Wake up, luv," he whispered.  
  
She didn't ever stir.  
  
"Come on now, Monice, get up. Dinner is served," he said, louder this time.  
  
He sat down and leaned over the sleeping form, not knowing the dangers of waking up Monice.  
  
"Monice, come on, yer have ter get up!"  
  
Nothing.  
  
He rolled his eyes.  
  
Gently, he poked her shoulder. All she did was shrug off his finger and turn her head towards him (with, much to Jack's annoyance, a little moan). Again he rolled his eyes again and removed his finger from her smooth skin just in case all manners, so to speak, left him completely and he did 'impure' things. That really, was the limit to his manners.  
  
He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her slightly. All that happened was that her head rolled around a bit.  
  
"MONICE! WAKE UP!" he shouted.  
  
She shot up in bed and head butted Jack.  
  
"Oh my goodness, I thought you were a potato," Monice said, rubbing her own head.  
  
Jack frowned. Was that all she said when she woke up? Or did he really resemble a vegetable?  
  
"Have yer hit yer head luv?" he asked. "Oh yes, this time yer have."  
  
He rubbed his own bump. It was quite sore.  
  
"Ouch! Jack! Why did you wake me up? Are we under attack or something? Oh my gosh! Jack, help me! We're under attack!" she squealed and jumped into his lap, her head now buried in the nook of his shoulder, her arms clinging desperately around his neck.  
  
Well, he didn't know what to do. If this wasn't a hint, then he didn't know what was.  
  
Gently, he lifted her chin to look into her eyes.  
  
"No, luv, we're not under attack," he said softly.  
  
As he was bringing his face closer to hers, he closed his eyes. Monice jumped up briskly and said, "Righty-ho! Now then," she said, brushing herself off. "Why did you wake me up?"  
  
Yes. Why did he wake her up? He had forgotten already. He was so frustrated at her dense mind that he had to bite his tongue to stop the string of curses about to erupt from his mouth. He managed a smile.  
  
"Dinner, luv," he said.  
  
"Oh, is that all? I thought we were under attack!" she repeated stupidly.  
  
What had her father done to her? Who was her mother? Jack was thinking. How could she be so . . . he couldn't describe her dimness.  
  
She was about to walk out of the room, when a loud cough emitted from the bed.  
  
Monice turned around and heaved a heavy sigh.  
  
"What now, Jack? I don't know, first you wake me up . . . no, first you attack my ship and then you bring me over onto this ship. Then you wake me up! What now, eh?"  
  
He gestured to his own chest.  
  
"The top of your dress is undone," he said.  
  
"And now you tell me that my dress is . . . oh!" she said eventually, looking down at her exposed cleavage. "Silly me!" she said, buttoning herself up hastily.  
  
"Yes, silly you," Jack muttered under his breath. What he would've given to see the look on his crew's faces to see Monice walk in, the top of her dress unbuttoned and for him to follow in afterwards with a grin on his own face.  
  
"Come on then! Don't just sit there! Escort a lady to her dinner," Monice said briskly, holding out her arm for him, waiting him to lead her to where they were eating.  
  
"Fine," he said moodily.  
  
"Oh, someone's got out of the wrong side of his bed today," Monice said, winking at him.  
  
That did it.  
  
He got up, marched over to where she was standing and grabbed her arm.  
  
"Dinner time!" he hissed with gritted teeth.  
  
O o o o o oh! D'ya think Jack's gonna be able to put up with her for much longer? Lol  
  
LEAVE A REVIEW (Linz, give me an accessory! Or anybody else who want to for that matter, ^.^, lol!) 


	7. We're the Bad Guys

Hiya! Thankies for the review-ies. lolz. Thanx to:  
  
Gypsy-Fire: aww! I have already eaten the cookies! Mmm, they were lovely, thank you very much! Poor you! You had to put up with a Monice? Did ya shoot her? Argh! There is a girl that is actually blonde that's like that. ^_^  
  
Herbie: what happens after chapter 6? Well, read chapter seven and find out! Lol. It's based before the movie, if that's what you mean! Lol. Thanx.  
  
Bey-Girl-Nicky: thank you so much! ! ! ! ! ha! Beat that sherbet! I have a blow up bow and arrow! Ha ha ha! Thanx again. I can get her back now! He he he.  
  
DemonicLittleGirl: thanx for the review. EVERBODY READ HER FIC!  
  
*hands out cookies to reviewers*  
  
enjoy!  
  
Chapter Seven; We're the Bad Guys  
  
"Ouch! Jack! Stop it! I demand that you let me go right this instant! Let me go! Jack! Are you even listening to me? Jack?" were some of the shouts that could be heard by the crew below deck where they were eating their meal.  
  
The crew laughed amongst themselves and the door burst open with Jack storming in, Monice close behind. He let Monice go and she immediately rubbed her sore arm.  
  
"Sit," Jack instructed, pointing to a chair in between two pirates. Jack kept well away from her and sat down three chairs to the right of Monice and to the opposite side of the table, just so he could keep an eye on her. He tucked into his food.  
  
Monice frowned and played with the food on her plate (well, mainly flicking peas towards Jack, but failing miserably as she had no aim). Her bottom lip was poking out sulkily. She wasn't eating anything that was on her plate.  
  
"Your face'll stick," said the person sitting on her left. Monice didn't notice who it was until she looked at him.  
  
"Ah . . . Shoelace," she said, groping around for a name . . . and getting it completely wrong. "What was that? Sorry - I wasn't paying attention," she giggled.  
  
"It's Bootstrap," he corrected.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"What I said was, your face will stick. The wind'll change direction and you'll be left with that frown forever," he said, smiling politely.  
  
"But it's not windy down here," Monice said.  
  
Bootstrap rolled his eyes.  
  
Monice stared back down at her plate and shrugged.  
  
"You must get bored," she said loudly, addressing the whole crew. They all went silent and looked at her.  
  
"I mean, what do you do? Apart from sail around on a little boat all the time," she said, gesturing around the 'little boat'.  
  
They all kept quiet and Monice heard someone stab their knife into the table angrily.  
  
"One; its not a 'little boat'. It's the Black Pearl! The most feared pirate ship on the Caribbean Sea. Two; we don't just 'sail around'," Jack said through gritted teeth. "We have adventures. Get the treasure, the gold, the land . . . the rum,"  
  
"And the women," somebody said, and the crew laughed.  
  
"OOOH! An adventure! How positively exciting! Do you go out, kill the 'baddies' and rescue the damsel in distress?" Monice asked eagerly.  
  
They looked at each other, confused. Again there was a silence.  
  
One person spoke out.  
  
"Can we kill 'er yet?"  
  
"Yer! She's annoyin' me!"  
  
"NO! Not yet!" Jack said, glaring at his crew. "Look, Monice, we're the bad guys, and that makes you the . . . er . . . 'damsel' . . . in distress,"  
  
"Ah," she said, and she sat there quietly for a while, the rest of the crew watching her reaction.  
  
"Does that mean you're going to be killed by a knight in shining armour?" Monice asked, raising her head up and smiling.  
  
The pirates looked at each other. When she put it that way . . .  
  
"Yes! It does! By the British Royal Navy!" she said, clapping her hands together happily.  
  
"Ar, but why would they be lookin' for yer? Yer not THAT important, missy," smirked Barbosa.  
  
Monice raised her head up proudly.  
  
"On the contrary! I AM important. If three-hundred and seventy four people in the Royal line die simultaneously for no apparent reason, I will be the Queen of England," she said proudly.  
  
"What?" the person on her right asked; confused by it all. Obviously pirates weren't particularly bright with statistics.  
  
"Nothing," Monice resigned.  
  
The rest of the pirates that understood (all of three) laughed.  
  
"So, what 'adventure' are we on then?" Monice asked.  
  
Jack grinned.  
  
"To find the secret Aztec Gold!" he said. "Some people say that it's cursed, but we aren't scared, are we men?"  
  
"No!" the crew shouted.  
  
"C- c- cursed?" Monice asked.  
  
"Yes, cursed. But I don't believe in that mumbo-jumbo," Jack said.  
  
"Where is it then?" Monice said.  
  
"It's on an island that can not be found - except by those who know where it is," Jack said dramatically.  
  
". . . that's stupid isn't it? What if you're trying to find it, but you can't because you don't know where it is?"  
  
Jack rolled his eyes and put his head in his hands.  
  
"Shut up and eat yer dinner," he said, and the chatter carried on.  
  
Monice folded her arms across her chest. After a while she resumed flicking peas at Jack.  
  
"Ready . . . aim. . . FIRE!" she whispered to herself dramatically and she flicked the pea.  
  
It all went into slow motion. Jack throwing his head back laughing at a joke from a crewmate . . . the pea arching in the air . . . the pea shooting into his mouth . . . lodging at the back of his throat . . . Jack choking . . .  
  
Then time went back to normal, and Jack was doubled over, choking on the pea that Monice had flicked into his mouth. She sat there, with her mouth open, amazed that she managed to hit her target.  
  
"Help me! I'm choking!" Jack mouthed in between coughs. His arms were waving around manically. The crew had only just noticed Jack rolling around choking on the pea. Nobody knew what to do. Just then the chair on her left scraped backwards and Bootstrap ran over to Jack. He stood Jack up and did the Heimlich manoeuvre on him. After a few tries Jack spat out the pea and it went zooming across the room, hitting Barbosa in the centre of his head.  
  
The room hushed again.  
  
Every head turned in Monice's direction.  
  
"Um . . . Sorry?" she offered, holding her hands up defensively.  
  
Jack looked ready to kill.  
  
For once, an ounce of common sense hit her and she got up and ran from he room, closely followed by a murderous Jack.  
  
She screamed when she felt hands grab her waist and roughly turn her around. They were on the deck now, alone, and Monice was sure that the breath that she was taking now would be her last.  
  
"Look, I said I'm sorry!" Monice said quickly, flailing her hands rather pathetically. She looked like a girl in a catfight as she slapped lightly at Jack's face. Jack didn't even flinch.  
  
"You fight like a girl," he grinned sarcastically. Monice stopped, and scratched her head.  
  
"But I am a girl, Jack!" she protested mildly. Jack sighed, her density still causing him to ponder. Had she stolen a four year old's brain and replaced her own with it? (a/n hey Lindz . . . erm . . . )  
  
Monice gave up trying to figure out Jack's comment and sighed herself. Jack growled, his mood changing swiftly.  
  
"Look, the whole pea thing," she said casually, as if nothing had even happened. "I suggest we drop it. I mean, I didn't mean to kill you- I only meant to hit you, rather squarely on the head. I didn't mean to kill you, I meant to hurt you . . . " she drifted off pathetically from the look on Jack's face.  
  
"Ha! You'd need a lot more than a pea to kill ol' Jack here! I'm the most feared pirate on the Caribbean!" he said, laughing.  
  
". . . But didn't you just nearly choke to death on pea?"  
  
"Stop talking about the pea! What is it with you and vegetables?" he said, sounding a little frantic.  
  
Monice tried to back away, but his grip around her waist was still firm. He looked at her, still appearing angry.  
  
"Um . . ." she quickly tried to think of a line to compliment him, hoping to quell his anger. "I like your . . . "  
  
Jack raised his eyebrows.  
  
"Eyeliner!" she said triumphantly. "Yes! It's really - original. Yes original!"  
  
"It's not eyeliner, but thank you for the compliment," he smiled. She nodded.  
  
"Well, I had best be off then!" she said briskly. She tried to get away again. He wouldn't let go. "Can you let go of me now- I've said I'm sorry, what more do you want?"  
  
"Well. . . "  
  
He brought her towards him and leaned in, closing his eyes . . .  
  
He he he! Cliffie cliffie cliffie! Ha ha ha! If you review, then I promise that the next part will be up by Tuesday! Ha ha ha!  
  
REVIEW! ! ! ! ! 


	8. Bridgett Jones' Locker

Yay! I re-typed it, and I think this will do! ;D  
  
Wolfybaby: Yay! You read it! Woo woo! And so many reviews . . Thank you!!! See ya in school . . . is that some sort of sick joke? Lol. Our school is now a pile of ashes! Lol  
  
crescent_illusion: yeah, the preview WAS short, but ah well, I try and update as soon as possible. ^_^  
  
Fuzzy Angel: awww, than you so much! I'm so happy that you like this! I like being showered with compliments. Lol  
  
XxDragon Princess NikkixX: Thank you! You even review me for the crappy little short chapters! *hugz*. Thanx hun!  
  
Here is the next chapter for ya, and you all get Will Turner posters, and cookies and Jack Sparrow posters and rum! (I managed to pry it from his grasp! Lol) sorry for any mistakes!  
  
Enjoy!  
  
Chapter Eight; Bridgett Jones' Locker  
  
Monice leaned back as he leaned toward her. She bent back as far as she could go, and Jack opened his eyes, as all he was kissing was air. He brought her towards him and kissed her. Well, she didn't have a clue what the hell was going on, so she tried her best to kiss him back. Suddenly she realised what she was doing and snapped to her senses. She pushed him away and this time he let her go. Monice slapped him on the cheek.  
  
"What was that for?" he asked.  
  
"Captain Sparrow, you utter scoundrel, how dare you?!" she said, scandalised.  
  
"Well-"  
  
"Oh no, what will I do now? I'm to be married soon! To Theobald. What on earth will he say if he found out that I kissed somebody?" she began to pace, still talking. "We were courting you know! He and I went out for supper once or twice! I had no idea he was going to propose to me! I don't even love him! Good heavens- what am I to do?"  
  
Jack, who had been waiting for a chance to speak, looked at her.  
  
"You're a little young to be wed, aren't you?" he said.  
  
"Not too young to kiss, obviously," Jack grinned. "Oh, the poor fellow. His friend was shot you know. In the local brothel last week. Oooh, if I found the person who killed him-" Jack winced. "- I'd kiss him on the spot! All that stupid lard bottom did was leer at my chest. And to think he was being discreet! Ha!"  
  
'He must have made it painstakingly obvious if Monice noticed!' Jack thought.  
  
But despite himself, he smiled.  
  
"That means you owe me a kiss," he said.  
  
Monice stopped pacing. She glared daggers at him. What had he done now?  
  
"YOU KILLED HIM?" she screamed. "YOU did that . . . that . . . awful thing! You are a terrible man, Jack Sparrow! I don't owe you a kiss at ALL-"  
  
Monice got cut off as he kissed her again. It was the only way that he could shut her up (that he could have a profit in, anyway!). He stepped back, please with the look on her face. It was utter shock.  
  
"I . . . I have to go," she said, heading towards his cabin. He grabbed her arm.  
  
"Do you really think that's wise, Monice? Sharing a bed with a pirate?" he whispered in her ear.  
  
She stepped back, appalled.  
  
"I thought I could trust you. Silly me. Mark my words, I could NEVER- you hear me- NEVER love a . . . pirate," she spat, and stormed off into his cabin, slamming his door.  
  
He heard her scream in frustration on the other side of his door. Jack stood there for a while letting those words sink in that she had said. He winced when he remembered how Monice said pirate, as if it were a curse or something. Jack walked over to the door and opened it. He heard a scream, then a sigh.  
  
"Oh, Jack. It's only you. Listen, I think it's for the best if we forget tonight completely. Okay? Good. Now," she said, without getting his answer. "Could you please turn around, as I am only in my under garments. And these do have to come off to wear that nightgown you ever so kindly put out for me," she made shooing motions with her hands and he lazily turned around.  
  
Monice quickly put her nightgown on and turned to face him. Once again kohl- lined eyes met her gaze.  
  
"Would you stop doing that? It's getting scarily accurate when you know when to turn around!" she said. He smiled.  
  
"Don't worry luv- I get that all the time," he lied. "Anyway, I have a bone to pick with you. This has been on my mind ever since you set foot on this ship," he paused for effect. "Do I really look like a vegetable?" he asked.  
  
Monice sighed and shook her head. "Honestly, all you think about is yourself!"  
  
"No I don't! I know I can be a little over-bearing, but personally I think I'm rather dashing. But do I honestly look like a vegetable?"  
  
"No,"  
  
"Not just a little bit?"  
  
"No,"  
  
"A carrot?"  
  
"Hmmm, no,"  
  
"What do you mean by 'hmmm, no,'?"  
  
"I mean 'hmmm, no'!" Monice said.  
  
"A turnip?"  
  
"Nope,"  
  
"A . . . a pea?"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Broccoli?"  
  
"FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE! If you ask me once more what type of vegetable you resemble, so help me God I will throw you into Bridgett Jones' Locker!" she seethed.  
  
He looked confused.  
  
"What are you on about?" he asked. "What's 'Bridgett Jones' Locker'?"  
  
"You know . . . you said something about Davie something's Locker at dinner just then . . . so I thought . . ."  
  
"Davie Jones' Locker?" he asked.  
  
"Is it? Well, yes, that then," Monice said, loosing the effect all together.  
  
"Well then, what vegetable do I look like?" he asked, getting back to the subject.  
  
"Argh!" she said, but then he put on a really cute face that she couldn't resist, so she did think for a while.  
  
She stepped up to him, their noses almost touching. She studied his face, circulating around him. He could feel the heat radiating from her body. He almost kissed her again on the spot. Just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, she spoke up.  
  
"A pineapple!" she said at last.  
  
He looked at her as if she was growing another head.  
  
"What?" he asked.  
  
She rolled her eyes.  
  
"I already told you! A pineapple!" she said happily.  
  
There was silence.  
  
"But a pineapple isn't a vegetable," he said.  
  
It was her turn to be confused.  
  
"What? Of course it is!" she exclaimed.  
  
"No. A pineapple is a fruit 'luv, not a vegetable," he told her.  
  
"But I thought . . . fruit grew . . . and . . . vegetables . . . grew . . . oh."  
  
He couldn't stand it any longer. Jack left the room muttering that he'd be surprised if she knew what a pineapple even was.  
  
Monice sighed and sat down on the bed. Soon enough she fell asleep.  
  
**************************************************************************** ************  
  
She woke up when she felt something brush her cheek. She kept her eyes closed and twitched her nose when it tickled her there.  
  
"Okay, I'm up now Tess, tell my father that I got up about an hour ago and I was doing my French assignment," she said as if it was drilled into her. She was good at making excuses off the top of her head.  
  
"Oh, so that's how I get you up without you head butting my nose then, is it?" an unfamiliar voice said.  
  
Monice shot up in bed and head butted however it was in the nose. She didn't care- it wasn't Tess. She opened her eyes and saw the face of Jack Sparrow clutching his bleeding nose. She looked at the object that he held in one of his hands and I was a feather. So that's what was tickling her!  
  
"Oops! Sorry!" she apologised.  
  
All he did was glare.  
  
"I thought you might like some breakfast," he said through a bloody nose.  
  
"Oh, no thank you! I can never eat in the mornings," she said.  
  
Jack had just broken his nose for nothing.  
  
"Great, thanks 'luv," he muttered and walked out of the room.  
  
He stepped out of the room and the glare of the sun hit his face.  
  
"Jack! A word if you please," Barbosa said to him.  
  
"Captain, Barbosa. Captain," Jack corrected. He was in a bad mood. "Yes, what is it?" he asked.  
  
"Not out here. Nobody knows how many ears will be listening. I was thinking below deck," he said.  
  
Jack was suspicious, but he followed anyway.  
  
Oooh, what d'ya think Barbosa wants to talk about? Well, if you leave a review, I will definitely update sooner! Sorry bout the crappy-ness of this chapter- I rushed it a little!  
  
Review! 


	9. Apple?

Heya! How are you? I'm fine thanx. What's that you say? Another update so soon? Well, yes it is! Woot woot! Thank me later in your reviews! ^_^  
  
XxDragon Princess NikkixX: go on, tell me how much you love the story#! I have a lot of time on my hands . . . lol. Monice uses her brains in this chapter! *Gasp*. Well. . . in the end it isn't a good idea. . . read and find out! Mwahahaha! *gives out any PotC goodies that I can find* Thanx babes!  
  
Wulfybaby: ^_~ I never kbew you had it in you- you little vandal you! Lol. Here is the next chapter and thanx for the review hunni!  
  
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Dark Maiden Reiya: Hey abaes! Than you so much- you never fail to give me a review! Lol. Right, you know why I put pineapple? Because of his hair! Do you get it now? Lol. And yes, you're right! Jack is hot. I understand you point of view. ^_~  
  
Enjoy!  
  
Chapter Nine; Apple?  
  
"What's this about?" Jack asked as he and Barbosa sat down to talk.  
  
"The treasure," he answered.  
  
"Well, yes, I guessed that. What about the treasure?" Jack said, getting an apple out of the fruit bowl that sat in the middle of the table. He swung his legs up on the ebony wood of the table and leaned back casually eating the apple.  
  
"Well, me an' the crew have been talkin'," Jack didn't like the sound of this. "And we think that everythin' should be an equal share," Jack nodded and let Barbosa continue. "Includin' the location o' the treasure,"  
  
Barbosa leaned forward expectantly, waiting for Jack's answer.  
  
"Yes, I agree," Barbosa nodded, trying to contain his amusement. "The treasure will be an equal share. But I wont tell yer where it is,"  
  
Barbosa's face fell considerably. What would he tell the crew now? They trusted him to be able to get the location of the treasure so that they could commit mutiny tonight.  
  
"I mean- who knows what could happen if I told yer? Yer could commit mutiny," Jack suggested, looking for Barbosa's reaction.  
  
"Well, no," Barbosa laughed nervously. Just the reaction that Jack had been looking for; Jack pretended not to notice. "Why would we do that?"  
  
"I don't know. You tell me," Jack smiled; happy at the annoyance he was causing Barbosa. He couldn't just tell Jack what was going to happen.  
  
"Come on Jack," Barbosa offered a smile and he barked a laugh. "Could yer imagine this ol' crew 'avin a mutiny against yer? They can barely tie their own shoe laces- ne'er mind organise a mutiny. What makes you think that we're gonna do that? Yer crew admires yer. Who wouldn't?"  
  
Jack tried not to retch at his mutinous first mate. He didn't know what to say. His fist mate was planning of leaving him to starve on an island. He decided to have the last word on the matter.  
  
"No Barbosa. I won't tell yer the location," and he go up and left the room, still eating the apple.  
  
Barbosa growled and got an apple for himself. He wondered what was going to happen now.  
  
But then he smiled evilly. The Pearl could still be his.  
  
**************************************************************************** ************  
  
Jack opened his door to his cabin and slammed it behind him. The wood almost splintered.  
  
"Bad morning?" Monice asked. Jack was surprised that she was still here.  
  
"No, just not good either," he said, putting on a grin.  
  
"Don't try that false grin with me, Captain. What's the matter?" she stood up from the bed (a little wobbly, Jack noticed). She walked over to him.  
  
"Nothin'," he lied. "Nothin' Jack can't handle," he reassured her.  
  
"Jack . . ." she warned. The smell of alcohol on her breath was washing over him.  
  
"Have you been at me rum?" he asked, frowning at her.  
  
"Naw," she giggled.  
  
He looked behind her and saw the open cabinet where he kept his rum. He groaned. How much had she had? Stepping around her he walked over to the cabinet and looked inside. He frowned again and then laughed.  
  
"Half a bottle of rum and-" he turned around in time to see her fall unconscious on the floor.  
  
"Poor girl. Not used to it," me muttered as he strained to put her on the bed.  
  
He dropped her on the bed and rolled his eyes. It was a good job that she still had her nightgown on and not her dress- other wise she would've weighed a ton. Monice stirred slightly and opened her eyes to look at Jack, who seemed to be annoyed over something.  
  
"What?" she asked.  
  
"So . . . you decide to wake up by bloody ACCIDENT and not even move more than an inch. But oh no, when I wake yer up you break me nose!" he exclaimed.  
  
He sat down on the bed next to Monice and looked down over her. Monice laughed at the bruise on Jack's nose and Jack smiled.  
  
"What's the matter?" she asked him again.  
  
He just gazed at her for a while, not answering. Should he tell her? Monice propped herself up on her elbows and frowned at him.  
  
"Tell me what's wrong!" she demanded.  
  
He sighed.  
  
"Well, 'luv. I should've known it would happen. Avin' Barbosa on board was risky enough. But I never knew it would happen . . . " Jack mumbled; working it out for himself.  
  
"What would happen?" Monice asked.  
  
"Well, the mutiny 'an all. I don't know if even this captain can get out o' that," he resigned.  
  
"But they can't. You're such an inspiration to your crew. Surely they wouldn't do that to you?" she asked.  
  
For the first time in a while, tears stung his eyes. He sighed again, his voice croaking. He smiled sadly at Monice.  
  
"Yer daft, yer know that?" he told her.  
  
She reached up and hugged him tenderly. Jack was surprised for a minute, but the he regained the usage of his arms and wrapped them around her waist. She was whispering comforting words in his ear.  
  
"I wonder if . . . " she trailed of and broke from their hug.  
  
"What?" he asked.  
  
"I have a plan!" she said happily. "I'll be right back!" she almost ran out of the room, but in a slight bee-line.  
  
"Door's that way luv," he said when she couldn't find it.  
  
"Thank you," she said and briskly walked out the room.  
  
He shook his head.  
  
"Women," he muttered and he lay down on the bed, his hat covering his eyes.  
  
**************************************************************************** ************  
  
"William! William!" Monice shouted, and ignored the whistles that she received from the crew. She was in her nightgown after all.  
  
"What?" a voice from behind her said, and she jumped, spinning around to see who it was.  
  
"There you are! I've been looking all over for you!" she said.  
  
He grimaced. "I heard," he said.  
  
"I need to talk to you- alone," she told him, and once again the crew started to shout.  
  
He shook his head at the gathering audience and they walked away disappointedly.  
  
"What?" he asked.  
  
Monice looked at him and was once again reminded of his handsome looks. Ooh, those eyes-  
  
"What?" he asked her again.  
  
"Oh, erm . . . Hoo hoo har har," she laughed in a high pitch, making a fool of herself once again. "Come on," she said, grabbing his hand and leading him below deck so that they could talk in private.  
  
They reached the kitchens and there was a small table with two chairs. They each sat down, facing each other.  
  
"I'm sure you know why you're here," she asked quietly.  
  
"No actually, I don't," Bill answered truthfully.  
  
Monice rolled her eyes.  
  
"Mutiny," she offered.  
  
"Oh," he said, his face darkening a lot.  
  
"I know that you are . . . a little unusual than any other pirate. By that I mean that you are kind hearted," she said quickly, seeing the look on Bootstrap's face. He smiled at her compliment. "But . . . I just wanted to know . . . how many actually want to commit the mutiny," she asked.  
  
He paused before answering.  
  
"All but one," he said.  
  
"Who doesn't?" she asked.  
  
"Me," he answered.  
  
Monice nodded. "As I thought. Why do they want to do this?" she asked.  
  
"You see, they want all of the treasure, and of course, Barbosa want the Pearl. Who doesn't?" he said truthfully, a gleam in his eyes. "The most feared ship on the Caribbean waters . . . It's every pirate's dream!" he said talking enthusiastically about the ship he was on. Monice could tell that he was totally devoted to it. But she wasn't impressed.  
  
"What kind of a person kills somebody for a ship?" she asked.  
  
"A pirate," he said.  
  
"But we can do something- right? I mean . . ." she trailed off weakly.  
  
"No. Even if Jack didn't tell Barbosa where the treasure is hidden Jack would still be killed on the way back. They might not even wait that long. They might just kill him on the island that has the treasure on it," Bootstrap said.  
  
Monice gasped. What kind of a ship was she on?  
  
"But Jack has more time if Barbosa doesn't know where it is- right?" she asked.  
  
"Aye, but it's just a matter of time now," Bootstrap said.  
  
"Does- does anybody else know where the location of the treasure is other than Jack?"  
  
"Yes, there is one," Bootstrap said.  
  
"Who?" Monice asked.  
  
He smiled and leaned back in his chair.  
  
"Me again."  
  
Monice gasped again.  
  
"But . . . how? Does Jack know?"  
  
"No, he doesn't. You see I sometimes watch him steer the ship. He has a compass that he always uses to steer us towards the island that we are heading for. I noticed once that it didn't point north. All I did was put two and two together. Nobody else noticed of course. They can't tie up their own shoe laces!" said Bill; not knowing that the person listening in on their conversation had just said the same thing moments before to Jack . . .  
  
Yay! A longer chapter! Now everything is coming together. You see how an OC can change anything? Lol. Stupid Mr. Gibbs, getting the story wrong! Te hee hee!  
  
Leave a review and tell me what you think! Good or bad? Let me know! 


	10. The Mutiny

YAY! Woo hoo! Lookie what I got here! Is it an update?????? No! Surely not? But it is! Ha ha ha- *gets apple thrown at head*  
  
Yea, I know. I have no excuse to leave it so late to update. What is it? A month? Two? A year? No. Terrible. Utterly quackers! LOL! N e hoooooooooo. . . . I have an important message! It is very complicated so READ THIS. Ahem. Right. You know I put up an Authors note? Well, I took it down. Chp 9 was chp 10, and you all reviewed it (which I am very thankful for) BUT- if you were logged in, you wont be able to review this chapter because, well, you sort of already hate. So, can I ask the biggest favour ever? Could you log out for me so you can still review this? PLEASE??? Ah well. Now time for the thank-you's!  
  
Gypsy-Fire: I'm glad that this is the light at the end of your tunnel, lol. I have been there, doing math, and It is awful *hugs*. Nobody should have to be piut through that. And I'm so happy that you think this is good! Woo hoo! Thank you so much! You ARE very encouraging! ^_^  
  
Asparagus06: If there is anything that you don't get then just tell me! I'm just really crap at writing *sob*. Thank you very much for your review! Why would I hate you? I think it's really nice of you to review me! Thank you very much.  
  
Undead Goat: You are so nice! That was really good of you to review all my chapters like that! Thank you so much! At first I didn't know whether I should have taken it as a compliment or not. But anyhooo. How to pronounce Monice's name. You pronounce the 'Mon' like the 'mon' in MONocle. And you pronounce the 'ice' part like the word 'GrEECE'. Yer get me? So it's like 'Moneece,' lol. Just say if you don't. Thank you anyway.  
  
JohnnyDeppBabe: Thank you very much. I didn't mean Will Smith like that. I don't think *remembers* it was such a long time ago I wrote that part that I can't remember. Lol. Thank you for reviewing- even though it wasn't the last chappie that you reviewed . . . . but every little counts. lol  
  
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If anybody else reviewed and I didn't thank, then I'm sorry, but this is a bit mixed up! Lol. THANK YOU ALL! *hands out cookies*  
  
Chapter Ten; The Mutiny  
  
Barbossa walked over the ship to tell the crew of what he had just heard. They all agreed that tonight was the night to act upon the mutiny, and they all laughed greedily thinking about all the treasure that would be theirs.  
  
Barbossa spared no time for getting the compass, but he still had the common sense to wait until nightfall to get it.  
  
All day he glared at Jack who was steering the ship in a lazy-looking manner. Barbossa could tell he was thinking about something. When Jack finally did go to sleep he crept into the Captain's quarters. What he found shocked him a bit.  
  
Monice had fallen asleep writing something, and she was leaning over the desk that was facing the bed that Jack was in sound asleep. Barbossa smiled wickedly and walked over to the bed as silently as he could.  
  
He took the last step towards the bed and a loud creak of the floorboard deafened Barbossa. He shut his eyes for a moment and when he opened them to his surprise he found Jack still sleeping soundly. He let out a breath that he didn't realise he was holding and stopped halfway through his next step when he realised that he didn't know where Jack actually kept the compass. Chiding himself he figured that the next place Jack would keep the damned compass would be either in his coat, or in the desk that Monice was currently sleeping at. Barbossa took the first option and backtracked over to the coat that was hanging up by the door.  
  
He thoroughly checked all it's pockets and growled lowly when he still couldn't find the compass. He threw three shillings in frustration on the floor and they bounced off the floor with yet another loud clang. Barbossa's heart rate was practically through the roof and he stood frozen to the spot out of fear that anybody would wake up. All he heard were loud snores coming from the desk, and steady breathing from the bed. He almost laughed at the stupidity from the both, but stopped himself at the last moment in case that they woke up- again.  
  
Barbossa looked towards the desk and sighed (silently of course) in frustration. How would he look through all the drawers without waking one or the other up? Maybe even both! Grumbling about his bad luck he once again attempted to creep stealthily to the desk.  
  
BANG!  
  
Barbossa felt a sense of déja vu as adrenalin pumped through his body. What was that noise? Keeping his feet where they ere, he leaned to look around so he could see the floor in front of the desk. There lay a piece of charcoal. He frowned and without thinking walked over to it to inspect the object. When he looked at it closely he saw that part of it was very blunt. Barbossa went over to see what Monice had been doing. He took the piece of parchment that she was working on and saw a. . . rough sketch of Jack. He bit down on his tongue to stop laughter erupting from his belly. The wench had feelings for Jack! Wait 'till the crew heard this! Still smiling he placed the paper back carefully (though he didn't know why) by Monice and continued on his hunt for the compass. Barbossa soundlessly rooted through the draws for the broken compass and he finally found it in the left-hand side drawer.  
  
With the smile still plastered on his face he opened it. He frowned once again as he noted that folded up and tucked at the top of the compass was a very aged piece of parchment. He shrugged and tugged it out. When he got the paper out, yet another piece of parchment fell out- only this one was not as old. Barbossa placed the second piece of paper on the desk to look at as soon as he had read the first one.  
  
He carefully unfolded the parchment only to find that it was actually a map. Not only that, but it was a map to the treasure that they were looking for. Not believing his luck he tucked it into his pocket to study later. Barbossa turned his attention towards the other piece that had fallen out earlier. Once again he had to control his laughter when he saw what it was.  
  
It was another drawing. Not of Jack, no, but it was drawn by Jack. It was Monice standing, looking out towards the sea. Trust Jack to do something like that. Barbossa also put this into his pocket and put the compass back, thinking that he had no need for it now.  
  
All Barbossa had to do now was get out of his future quarters and tell the crew. He would save the picture for later. On his way out, Barbossa took the picture of Jack too.  
  
**************************************************************************** ***********  
  
Jack frowned in his sleep as loud bangs were coming from his door. He sighed and rolled over, digging his head in the pillow hoping to block out the noise. He growled and eventually got up out of his warm bed and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He stood swaying for a while, looking longingly at his bed, when another loud bang emitted from the door.  
  
"Blimey, they're keen to see their captain," he muttered to himself and he smiled to himself as he saw Monice. She'd have a bad back today!  
  
He reached for the door, but before he managed opened it the wooden frame splintered and the door swung open with a loud crash. Jack winced as two of his crew grabbed him by the arms and dragged him outside roughly. Out of the corner of his eye he saw two other crewmembers drag Monice out as well. One was sporting a bloodied nose and Jack couldn't help but smile. Poor beggar woke her up.  
  
Jack wondered what the hell was going on, just a second ago he was sound asleep, and now he was being dragged along his own ship towards the mast. But when he saw Barbossa smiling like a Cheshire cat showing all his rotting teeth, it hit Jack like a ton of bricks. The mutiny was beginning.  
  
Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh. Evil cliff-hanger! Hee hee! Remember what I said, please try and review by logging in or logging out! Thank you! What is gonna happen next? Sorry it was so short like- but it took long enough! Lol  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!  
  
BTW! Everybody- and I mean EVERYBODY (yes, that includes YOU) MUST check out this fic. It's called 'The Haunting Place' by 'Citadel'. It is the funniest fic I have ever read! OMG! IT IS HILARIOUS! If you like this then you will like that. It's about this medium that can talk to the dead etc (lol) and Jack wants this treasure from a dead Captain that. He kidnaps her and brings her onto the Pearl. Omg, it's really really good. When you have reviewed check my favourite stories list and its there. So very funny  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Thank you! 


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